One Day
by Caphriel
Summary: Persona 3. Kirijo Mitsuru is no stranger to responsibilities, but she never asked for this one. Some decisions have no right answer. An exploration of what might be waiting in the future of SEES. Does it take more courage to fight fate, or to accept it?


Persona 3 is the property of Atlus. Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

><p><strong>Friday April 9, 2012<br>Early Morning**  
>Mitsuru Kirijo looked longingly at the bright spring morning outside the window that made up an entire wall of her office, then turned back to her overflowing inbox and the stacks of printed reports. She had never imagined that being the head of the Kirijo Group would involve quite so much paperwork. Budgets, expense reports, and policy decisions all crossed her desk, to say nothing of the interminable meetings and the endless bickering of the board of directors that consumed her time. Speaking of the board, two of them had lately been arguing over the allocation of a large sum of money for the next quarter, but rather than doing it in person, they were doing it by email. In addition to drawing out the argument to a length of weeks, they felt the need to clutter her inbox by carbon copying every email they sent to each other to her as well, presumably in the hope that she would be convinced to support their side of the argument. They both had valid claims to it; Research and Development was responsible for the creation of the new medicine to treat victims of Apathy Syndrome, but Marketing had scored quite the coup by winning an exclusive contract at all of the university hospitals in the district. She would have to step in at some point and force a compromise; perhaps allocating the initial estimates to Research, and the excess to marketing... She would not do that until the next board meeting, though. The two men had hated each other for years, and would find some new bone of contention as soon as she settled this one.<p>

She deleted the dozens of emails the two had sent so far since last night, but that only reduced the number of unread emails from "impossible" to "overwhelming," so she looked instead at the neatly ordered piles of printouts on her desk. Most of them were simple requests that merely required her signature as a formality, but some of them required serious thought. And some of them were items she would obviously never sign, that she wished she could believe were simple foolishness. She suspected something much more sinister: a conspiracy of some of the board members and department heads from her grandfather's time who were looking for an excuse to remove her. Agreeing to some of their requests, such as approval for human clinical trials of insufficiently tested drugs, or allocations of funds for corporate recreational activities that had several more zeroes than those activities could possibly require, would provide sufficient proof of her incompetence for them to initiate action to remove her. Either that, or they were simply trying to overwhelm her into giving up by piling minutiae on her until she cracked. Either way, she could hardly afford to let her authority slip, even a little.

The reasons for her tenacious hold on her position, despite her young age and unhappiness with her job, could be found in two manila folders, mostly buried under another pile of papers at the edge of her desk. The larger one contained status and summary reports from a certain research element of the Kirijo Group, and the smaller contained surveillance reports from a small division of security. The former were tasked with investigating Erebus, the manifestation of humanity's destrudo, Nyx, and the barrier that separated the two. It was a bitter bit of cosmic irony that they had found a way to free Minato's soul from the barrier mere months after they had started working on the problem. Doing so, would, of course, result in the end of the world, unless they could find some way to destroy or weaken Erebus, or some other way to hold back Nyx. So far, the team had made no significant progress toward either of those goals; although they had developed some very interesting theories, none of them were practical.

The latter team, a small group of dedicated security experts, were tasked with protecting and maintaining surveillance on the remaining members of the Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad. Where the research reports gave her hope, the SEES surveillance reports made her despair of accomplishing anything before it was too late. It was not that she had a deadline, exactly, but some of her friends had not been handling the implications of Minato's sacrifice well. When she was honest with herself, she knew she was not handling it well, either. Throwing herself into her work was productive, certainly, and it provided the chance for her to change things, but she knew she was beginning to show signs of overwork. She could not stop, though. How could she shy away from a little work, when Minato had turned his very soul into a barrier that constantly resisted attempts to break it?

That was the detail that was destroying her friends; she was almost certain of it. It had taken them some time to recover from the shock of losing him, some of them longer than others, but after that they had been almost back to normal, or as normal as they could be. Then the researchers she had allowed to investigate the barrier had informed her that they were almost certain they could free Minato from the barrier, but that they just needed to solve the problem of not letting Erebus reach Nyx, first. She had been ecstatic, and immediately informed all the remaining members of SEES. They, too, had been excited and happy. They had even thrown a party in celebration. But as the weeks dragged on and they really started thinking about it, happiness began to transform into horror.

They had believed he was dead, and acted accordingly. They had mourned him and attempted to move on. The news that he might come back was wonderful, obviously, but they did not really think about the implications at first. If he could be freed from the barrier, then he was not really dead. And if he was not dead, then he was still alive, trapped inside the barrier, fighting and suffering to protect them. Furthermore, even if his soul could be freed from the barrier, it did not follow that he would be returned to them; his soul might simply move on. The realizations were crushing, and they had all handled the situation differently, but none of them had handled it well. The surveillance reports had told her that all of her friends had developed some unhealthy, even self-destructive, tendencies, but it was not until the reunion last month that she had discovered just how badly their friend's plight had affected the others.

She had scheduled a reunion for the anniversary of Minato's 'death,' as last year had demonstrated that none of them had coped with it well, and she had hoped they would be able to comfort each other, at least. Unfortunately, the gathering had been awkward and depressing; the companionship they had once shared was absent, and in its place were bickering and recriminations. The only silver lining, and she considered it that only by the very loosest sense of the phrase, was that the depth of their troubles had been exposed to each other. As the former leader of SEES, it was her responsibility to try to help them. She snorted bitterly when she wondered who would help her.

A chime from her computer signaling a new email distracted Mitsuru from her recollections, and she shook her head, recognizing the direction of her thoughts. If she were someone else, she would recommend that person seek counseling for grief and depression, but it was unlikely that anyone would understand her problems. Some of the therapists employed by the Kirijo Group might, but they would recommend she take a leave of absence until she was feeling better, and she could not afford that. Not when her authority was the only thing keeping the research groups and security teams on the assignments she had given them. She had justified the expenses, but another leader would certainly find more profitable things to reassign the resources and manpower to.

The email was from the leader of the research team, asking for a meeting to discuss his findings. He usually just sent her a weekly summary, and Mitsuru allowed herself to entertain a faint hope that a breakthrough had been made, but she squashed before paging her secretary. It would not do for her to sound too eager to schedule an appointment. Her secretary, while a nice enough woman, was almost certainly a spy for at least two members of the board of directors, probably more of them. They had resisted her attempts to replace the woman on the grounds that she would have to find another fully trained bodyguard who would do secretarial work. The idea of her needing a bodyguard seemed laughable. She turned her chair to look at the crossed swords hanging on the wall behind her desk. She imagined that the board members would be quite surprised to know that not only were they real, but that she was quite capable of using them, and had carried one of them into battle. Mitsuru checked her calendar and took a moment to compose herself, then reached for the intercom.

"What can I do for you, Kirijo-san?" Mitsuru knew that her secretary's cheerfulness was just part of her job, but it still made her smile.  
>"Ah, Kinatsu-kun. Please inform Mameda-san from Research that I would like to see him this morning before lunch. Ten o'clock if he is available, eleven-thirty if he is not. If his presence is required in the laboratory, then Tuesday at two-thirty."<br>"Mameda, ten, eleven-thirty, or Tuesday two-thirty... Is that all, Kirijo-san?"  
>"Yes, thank you."<p>

Mitsuru slumped back in her chair with a sigh as soon as the conversation ended. She would have preferred to meet with Kinatsu immediately, but it simply was not possible. She had too many meetings to attend already. Unfortunately, the delay meant more time to spend wondering what he had found. She hoped it was good news, but even if it was not, it was sure to be interesting. His vagueness in the email was at odds with his usual precise style, and she suspected that whatever he had found, he was unwilling to risk it being leaked before speaking to her. She appreciated his discretion, but what could have required it? The possibilities filled her with dread.  
><strong><br>Morning**  
>Mitsuru checked the time for what felt like the thousandth time that day. 11:25 PM. Five more minutes. She leaned back in her chair and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves. The entire morning spent worrying about what Mameda could possibly have discovered had not helped her peace of mind, and her imagination had provided her with plenty of nightmare scenarios. The barrier, and Minato's life, such as it was, could be in danger. Perhaps Erebus was circumventing it. Maybe it had turned out that it was impossible to safely extract him from the barrier, and he was doomed to spend eternity resisting Erebus.<p>

She shook her head. 11:27 PM. Mitsuru knew that her growing tendencies toward pessimism and depression were irrational, and tried to notice and resist them. She reminded herself that it could be good news that he wanted to deliver in person. Perhaps he had found a way to seal Nyx forever, or maybe to seal Erebus. Good or bad, she would know soon enough. 11:29 PM. Her intercom chimed.

"Mameda-san from Research for an appointment, Ma'am."

Mitsuru swallowed, her mouth suddenly gone dry. "Send him in."

Her door swung open a moment later, and a thin, balding man clutching a sheaf of papers with both hands stepped through.

Takakazu Mameda had worked under her grandfather, studying the shadows. He had started there as a junior researcher, but had worked his way up through talent and hard work. However, he had not been quiet with his misgivings about the project, especially once it had turned away from its original goals and toward darker things. After one too many arguments with his superiors, he had been demoted and transferred from the project in disgrace. Despite the black mark on his record, his aptitude for the job had let him work his way up past his previous position to the level of research team leader, although his team was frequently shuffled to dead end projects or uninteresting research.

It was, ironically, the black mark on his record that had brought him to her attention and earned him his current position. Mitsuru had been looking for someone she could trust to be somewhat discrete about the things she wanted done and would not abuse the information and resources she would provide, and someone who would not turn the knowledge of the shadows to more sinister ends. She was reasonably certain that her patronage and his professional pride would provide the first. If he betrayed her, he would be back to menial work for the rest of his career. The latter, she was trusting to his conscience, and hoping that if he had been willing to sabotage his own career once because of what he saw as misuse of the shadows, he would be willing to risk doing so again, or at the very least would not be tempted to misuse them himself.

Mameda paused to make sure the door closed completely, then turned to face her. She rose to greet him.

"Thank you for finding time to meet with me so quickly, Mameda-kun." A polite fiction; when the director of the Kirijo Group requests a meeting, an employee of the group jumps to find time. However, that polite fiction helps offset her reputation as unapproachable. He seemed nervous, and Mitsuru hoped it was not because he had bad news, and was afraid she would punish him for it. Setting him at ease could do no harm. "Please, have a seat." She gestured to the comfortable chairs arrayed in an arc around a table to the side of her desk as she stepped around to seat herself in one. The request was more than a show of respect; her desk was too large to comfortably speak across, and she hoped that reduced formality of the arrangement would put him at ease. "What do you have to report?"

Mameda chose the chair across the table from hers, and set his papers down. He arranged them carefully before looking up. "Kirijo-san, we've confirmed that the barrier is failing." Some of what she felt must have shown on her face, because he gave her a sympathetic look. "The calculations and the projected failure date are outlined in here." he pushed a stack of papers across the table to her "It's not imminent, exactly... but we suspect that there may be a degree of acceleration we couldn't account for. That's the bad news."

Mitsuru schooled her face into an impassive mask, burying her emotional reactions until later. "What else?"

"We confirmed one of our theories about the shadows." He pushed a second stack of paper toward Mitsuru. "We're almost certain, now, that the shadows prey upon those with stronger death drive than life drive. When a person's desire to destroy and die exceeds their desire to live and create, a shadow is born. They're then targeted by the shadow that they spawned, resulting, as you know, in a case of Apathy Syndrome. The newborn shadow then goes on to feed off the darker energies of humans who are close to creating new shadows, which delays the creation of that person's shadow. Thus, they have a built in population control to keep their numbers from growing beyond what the human population can support, but at the same time will allow their population to rapidly renew in the face of external negative growth..." Mameda trailed off uncomfortably.

Mitsuru frowned as she tried to figure out what point he was trying to make. If the shadows preyed upon those that spawned them, then the population of shadows should be relatively stable. But ever since the destruction of Tartarus, new cases of Apathy Syndrome had ceased. Based on what he said, that implied that there were no new shadows forming... She had thought that was a good thing, but... Mitsuru felt distinctly uncomfortable with where her thoughts had lead her. "You mean to tell me that if we bring back the shadows, they'll weaken Erebus enough that the barrier will be stable?"

Mameda shook his head. "Not stable, Kirijo-san. Unnecessary. We believe that if the shadow population was brought back to natural levels, Erebus would cease to exist. The shadows would consume the energies that form it and sustain it, and it would most likely dissipate in time."

Mitsuru nodded slowly. "Let's assume for a moment that we would want to bring back the shadows. Is it possible?"

The scientist shifted restlessly in his seat. "It's possible, but..." He leaned forward. "Kirijo-san, may I be frank with you?" Mitsuru nodded, and he continued. "We are certain it can be done, and we believe we know how, although actually implementing it would not be simple. However, if we do this, we will be condemning hundreds of thousands or millions of people to brain death over the next several years as the shadow population rapidly grows to its natural levels! And thousands more each year after that!"

"Have you found any other options?" Mitsuru hissed. "If you have not, then if the barrier is failing as you said, we weigh those lives against the existence of humanity! Have you any other alternatives?"

"At this time, we do not. And-" he held up a hand to forestall her protest, "-I do not believe we will find any better. Something must be done to weaken Erebus or strengthen the barrier, and that something must be absolutely reliable. Mechanical means may fail, relying on repeated human action may prove... unreliable. I'm afraid this is the safest option." Mameda's tone left no doubt about how distasteful he found this idea. "We could still look into other options," he offered hopefully, "but the decision is up to you. Please review our findings and let me know what direction you'd like us to take."

Mameda stood and handed the remaining papers to Mitsuru as she rose as well. "These are summaries of the other methods we consider plausible, as well as evaluations and a breakdown of the pros and cons of each. One last thing, which isn't on the reports. If we decide to pursue the revival of the shadows, it may be necessary, and would certainly be helpful, to unseal your grandfather's research records. I know how you feel about this, and how the board would view it, but please consider it." He bowed slightly, then turned to leave.

"I will do that. Thank you, Mameda-kun."  
><strong><br>Lunchtime  
><strong>  
>Mitsuru stretched, grimacing as her back popped. If she had known Akihiko was going to make her wait, she would have picked a meeting place with more comfortable seats. Still, she was reasonably confident that none of her enemies within the Kirijo Group would overhear their conversation here. After all, how many of them would be seen eating at a fast food burger eatery at the station? She certainly would not have, had not Minato taught her to appreciate fast food. It was one of the many things she was grateful to him for, and now, she might finally have a chance to repay him.<p>

Mitsuru checked her watch and sighed. He was very, very late. The door chimed, and she looked toward the entrance, but it was by reflex more than any real hope that Akihiko had arrived. If he was going to be so late, he should have called first, she thought indignantly, as a family of four entered. She slumped back and started digging through her purse for her cell phone, then stood up as another man slipped in behind them, and waved him over.

Visibly, Akihiko Sanada had not changed much since high school. A few injuries to his face from boxing and worry lines added years to his face that when combined with his prematurely grey hair, gone colorless after the death of his sister, Miki, sometimes lead people to think he was an old man at first glance. This afternoon, he moved like an old man as well, and Mitsuru knew that he had been in another street fight.

The security detail assigned to Akihiko reported that he was engaging in brawls with alarming frequency, sometimes as often as three times a week. Even though he had passed the entrance exams with high enough marks to have entered the university of his choice, he had instead opted for an entry level office position. He had never explained his reasons to her, nor had he ever explained why he joined an amateur boxing gym instead of becoming a professional. Mitsuru had not followed his career herself, but her weekly reports had contained enough information for her to piece together a scenario, which agreed with the speculations of the head of the team.

Akihiko, it seemed, had not been able to set aside his combat instincts. Compared to a shadow, a human being was little threat, and to someone who had faced down Nyx, very little could be physically intimidating. Accordingly, Akihiko's fighting style in the boxing ring was brutal and aggressive. He almost always won by knockout, and his opponents were frequently injured. About a year after graduation, following increasing difficulty finding opponents, his coach had politely asked him to leave the gym, explaining that he was giving the establishment a bad reputation. Akihiko had left without complaint, but shortly afterwards, she began seeing reports that he had been engaged in a street fight, usually with delinquents or high school dropouts in a bad part of town. It was only a matter of time, Mitsuru feared, before he ran afoul of the police. The actions of his assigned guardians were all that had protected him from that fate so far.

"Sorry I'm late." Akihiko dropped into the chair across from her, grimacing slightly. "You don't look so good."

"You're looking a little rough yourself." Up close, signs of his fights were more obvious.

"Yeah, I ran into some trouble on the way here. Nothing major, but I had to go home and clean up first. So, why'd you call me out here, Mitsuru?"

"I'm sorry for asking you to meet me like this." Mitsuru glanced down at the table. She knew what he was hoping for, and what she actually had to say was likely to go over poorly. "The research team has made a breakthrough on the shadows. They confirmed some of their theories, and have developed some interesting new hypotheses." She took a deep breath and looked up to meet his eyes. "Erebus will overcome the seal. The most reliable way to prevent this is to bring back the shadows."

Mitsuru had been expecting many reactions to this revelation. She had considered the possibility that he would be stunned, or outraged. She had not expected the joy that lit his face as he cracked his knuckles. "So, they'll be back, eh? I haven't had a good fight in a long time. It'll be just like old times, then?"

Well. She could use this. He did not talk about it much, but he had once confided in her, a few weeks after they had graduated, that between Shinjiro's death and Minato's, he had begun to doubt if he could protect anything. The leader of her private security division agreed with her that his drive to prove to himself that he was not weak was a strong factor in his need to keep fighting. If she had had to guess what his reaction to the return of the shadows would be, she would have chosen anger that she would even consider something so dangerous. Perhaps, though, his regret over the past would work in her favor.

"Not just like old times, but maybe closer than you think. If the shadows come back, it will be safe to free Minato from the seal, and possibly reform SEES, or something like it." There were two primary possibilities for how he might respond to this. She was hoping for happiness or relief, but there was the distinct possibility of-

"It's always about him, isn't it?" Akihiko stood abruptly, slamming his hands down onto the table.

-jealousy. Mitsuru kicked him under the table. He grimaced. "Damn it, Akihiko! Sit down!" she hissed, "You're drawing attention." Akihiko sat, but it was more of a controlled collapse that, combined with his expression, made her wonder if his shin had already been injured. She squelched her sympathy, and her impulse to retort that Minato might not come back. That would be unlikely to comfort him, and if it did, he would later be tortured by his immediate relief. "I really was expecting you to be happy about this. The sooner the situation of Erebus is resolved, the sooner I can step down as head of the Kirijo Group if I want to." Not that she had any intention of resigning, but it was the freedom to do so that mattered. She had no doubts that the board of directors would attempt to interfere with her romantic life, and the less she had to fight with them over at a time, the better.

"We've been over this before!" She had become aware of his jealous almost two years ago, when he had accused her of turning him down out of lingering feelings for Minato. He had not believed her then, exactly, when she had explained that Minato had been a very good friend who had helped her realize that she wanted nothing to do with the arranged marriage the board of directors of the Kirijo Group was attempting to pressure her into. In retrospect, admitting in that first argument that yes, she had had a crush on Minato, was probably not the smartest thing she had ever done, but she had learned to prefer being honest from the start to trying to keep track of a web of half-lies and deceits.

Still, it had provided an opening for her to confide to him some of the problems she faced within the Group: the opposition from the board and their attempts to undermine her position, disrespect from subordinates twice her age who resented taking direction from a young woman, and her efforts to quietly reopen investigation into the nature of the shadows. They had managed to repair friendship, although they were not exactly dating, despite Akihiko's regular inquiries. He was understanding about her desire to avoid providing ammunition to her enemies, but the inability to have a public relationship did not sit well with him.

Akihiko slumped, rubbing gingerly at his eyes. "Yeah, sorry Mitsuru. So, can they really bring him back?" He leaned forward hopefully.

"They say they can free him, but," she reached across the table and took his hand, "they won't guarantee success. There's no way for them to test their theory, of course, and if they fail... Akihiko, if they fail, they think it will most likely destroy his soul..." she trailed off, swallowing. "And even if they succeed in bringing him back, there is a chance that maintaining the seal for two years may have changed him. He may not be the same person. He may not even remember us! And..." her voice dropped, "freeing his soul doesn't necessarily mean he'll return to us."

"You said the barrier was failing, right? That'll kill him anyway, won't it? Even if he's not the same person, even if he doesn't remember us, even if he doesn't return, isn't anything better than annihilation?" She winced, and he looked away.

"You're right, Akihiko, I'm sorry." She retrieved a handkerchief from her purse with her free hand and dabbed at her eyes. "I've just had nobody to trust but myself with this for so long, and I've wondered if I was doing the right thing. It wouldn't have been the first time my instincts lead me astray," she said bitterly.

"Why didn't you tell anyone? You don't have to do everything on your own!" Akihiko's voice was angry, but his face was hurt. "You could have trusted me with this!"

Mitsuru sighed, absently folding the handkerchief and tucking it away. "I know. But, I didn't want to raise everyone's hopes if it turned out to be impossible. I know how much everyone cared for him, and I would have preferred not to cause any needless pain. Still, it's time to make a decision, and you all have the right to be involved. I just hope it doesn't have to be resolved like last time."

"I take it you want my help?" Akihiko was still slouched in his chair, but it was no longer the defeated slump it had been. His posture was now, at least, a shadow of the old confident Akihiko, that would face any challenge fists-first. It was a tremendous improvement, and seeing it eased Mitsuru's heart.

"Yes. I would like you to approach Junpei and Chidori. Junpei has always respected you, and Chidori... I think she's always resented me a little for my part in her imprisonment in the hospital, even if she no longer remembers why. I believe they are more likely to treat the situation rationally if you introduce it. I will try to get in touch with Yukari and Fuuka."

"Right." He nodded sharply and stood to leave, but paused. "What about Ken? He's still just a kid. Are we going to involve him in this again? He's finally been living something like a normal life."

"I don't know," Mitsuru admitted, "I was planning to discuss that once everyone else had been informed. I don't see any reason to exclude them from this decision."

"Alright, then." Akihiko grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. "I guess I'll see you later."

"Akihiko, wait." He raised an eyebrow at her. "I did ask you to join me for a meal."

"Don't you have to get back to work?" His stomach growled, and he looked down sheepishly.

Mitsuru laughed. "One of the perks of my position is the freedom to take a long lunch break if I want to. I cleared my afternoon schedule for a few hours. Sit down. We haven't had time to talk for a while."

**Afternoon**

Mitsuru looked at the clock. Almost time. She sighed and saved her work; this was going to be a long conversation, and it was one she should have had some time ago. Unfortunately, there had never been an opportune time to bring it up. Her intercom buzzed.

"Aigis from Security to see you, Kirijo-san."

Mitsuru pressed the talk button. "Send her in."

Aigis had been one of the most affected by Minato's death. She, like most of the others in SEES, had finished her last year of high school, but unlike them, Aigis had found herself uncertain of how to proceed with her life. No matter how much she wanted to be a normal human, her life was inextricably tied to the Kirijo Group. Furthermore, her nature prevented her from finding regular employment, although it also relieved her of the need for one, somewhat. Aigis had found herself feeling adrift and without purpose.

At the same time, Mitsuru had been struggling to solidify her control over the Kirijo Group, with its hostile board of directors. She had been without anyone she could trust, and her isolation made it difficult for her to establish trust. Employing Aigis has been a mutually beneficial action, and they were both satisfied with it. Mitsuru had hired Aigis as an internal security agent, and had granted Aigis the authority to accomplish the internal investigations Mitsuru did not have time to do herself. She had rapidly compiled evaluations of all Kirijo Group employees in critical positions, and helped Misturu establish control.

Mitsuru had been careful to ensure that Aigis's contract would not raise any eyebrows, given that her nature and her relationship to Mitsuru were not secret. As such, her pay was modest, and half of it was withheld to cover maintenance fees. However, Mitsuru had managed to preserve the funding of the engineering group that had created her, and they had been pleased to continue developing new parts for her.

Mitsuru was certain that her efforts to continue research into the Dark Hour and the fate of Minato had played a role in Aigis's decision to work for the Kirijo Group. By assisting Mitsuru, Aigis was able to help ensure that the research would continue, and she had confided to Mitsuru that she felt this was the best way to uphold her promise to protect Minato. Despite knowing her feelings, Mitsuru had been neglectful of her promise to keep Aigis informed of their findings.

Aigis opened the door and stepped through, but did not acknowledge Mitsuru's presence. Instead, she closed the door and immediately turned to face it, and began walking a slow circuit of the room. Mitsuru waited patiently; she knew this peculiar behavior had a purpose. The necessity of allowing Aigis to scan her office for covert monitoring devices frustrated and angered her, and she found the fact that her co-workers were attempting to spy on her humiliating.

They had discovered that Mitsuru was being monitored during the first board meeting after Aigis had joined the Kirijo Group. One of the senior members of the board had dropped a subtle reference to a conversation she had had with Aigis about her living arrangements earlier that week, in what was most likely an attempt at fishing for information. Mitsuru had assumed he had heard it elsewhere, but when she mentioned, Aigis had stated that she had only spoken of it the one time, in Mitsuru's office. She had promptly asked Aigis to check for any recording or transmitting devices in her office, and Aigis had detected, removed, and destroyed and astonishing number of them. Since then, Aigis had insisted on searching for new ones before their weekly meetings. She had not found any, but Mitsuru did not doubt that they would return as soon as Aigis stopped searching. The reminder of her debt to Aigis renewed her guilt at keeping secrets. She had not intended to deceive Aigis, but Mitsuru had not wanted to give her false hope by sharing the researchers' optimistic theories concerning Minato.

With a start, Mitsuru realized Aigis was standing in front of her desk, and wondered how long she had been waiting. Despite her heavy body, she could move very quietly when she wanted.

Mitsuru cleared her throat. "Please, have a seat."

Aigis sat carefully; her past experience with chairs designed for human weights made her cautious of trusting furniture. "Thank you, Kirijo-san."

"Aigis?" Although it was necessary for Aigis to speak to her politely in public, they had spoken informally during their weekly meetings since Aigis has discovered the surveillance apparatus in the walls, and Mitsuru was unsure what prompted the increased formality. She hoped that it did not indicate bad news for this week's reports.

"I am sorry, Mitsuru. I have something I must discuss with you."

Mitsuru arched an eyebrow. While they would usually talk for a few minutes after Aigis briefed Mitsuru, until the reports were concluded, Aigis was usually all business. For something to compel her to deviate from her routine... She felt a cold knot of dread begin to form in her stomach.

"What's wrong, Aigis?" Even as she asked the question, she felt some of her tension ease as she realized Aigis would have informed her immediately if something had happened to one of their friends.

"It has... come to my attention that you are pursuing a course of action that I cannot support, Kirijo-san. If I cannot convince you to abandon it, I am afraid I will have to resign from the employ of the Kirijo Group."

"Aigis, I don't understand." Mitsuru shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

"I am sorry, Mitsuru. I-" Aigis lifted two fingers to her throat, a gesture Mitsuru had never determined the significance of but knew from observation indicated Aigis was thinking about Minato, and Mitsuru realized what Aigis was distressed about.

"I never informed you because I did not wish to distress you," Aigis continued, "but after removing the listening devices from your office, I planted my own. I did not mean to spy on you, it was simply so that I would know immediately if something was wrong. However, when I heard your conversation with Mameda-san this morning," Aigis lowered her head, "I used my security clearance to access the reports he mentioned, and then his previous ones."

"Aigis..." Mitsuru started to reach across her desk, but stopped, knowing that certain physical gestures made Aigis uncomfortable still. "I didn't intend to keep this from you, but I didn't want to raise your hopes prematurely. I would have preferred to tell you myself, but I'm not upset you found out. I told Akihiko the details at lunch, and discussed how to tell everyone else."

Aigis stiffened in her chair, and Mitsuru wondered if not being the first to know had hurt the android. "This- " Aigis touched her ribbon again. "This is not what Minato would want!"

"I know," Mitsuru said quietly. "He chose to give up his life for the lives of humanity. He wouldn't want us to choose him over the lives of other people."

"That is correct." Aigis nodded. "So why are you pursuing this research? It is not something that Minato would wish us to do."

"I know that," Mitsuru sighed. "I know that, but still..."

"There are alternatives," Aigis said slowly, staring unblinking at Mitsuru. "You must consider them first."

"Yes. I will pursue all feasible alternatives first," Mitsuru assured the former anti-Shadow weapon. "However, I cannot rule out bringing back the Shadows. It must remain on the table as a last resort."

"I see." Aigis stopped moving, a sign Mitsuru recognized as indicating that she was deep in thought. Mitsuru waited patiently for her companion to reach a conclusion.

"If you have exhausted every other option, then I will support you in bringing back the Shadows," Aigis said finally. "It would be contrary to my role as an anti-Shadow weapon, but my primary objective is to protect humanity. If restoring the Shadows is demonstrated to be necessary for the preservation of humanity, then I shall assist you with all my power."

"Thank you, Aigis," Mitsuru smiled. It reassured her to know that she would have the support of her friend. "Between you, Akihiko, and myself, we should be able to convince the others if it becomes necessary."

Aigis nodded. "The younger members of SEES have always respected you and Akihiko as leaders. If you present the matter to them rationally, I am certain that they will accept it."

"Thank you for your support, Aigis." Mitsuru glanced at her watch. "Shall we move on to your report, then?"

"Yes." Aigis blushed slightly. "Ah, before that, I must apologize, Mitsuru. I misused my security clearance and intruded upon your privacy. Please forgive me." She bowed as deeply as her seated position would allow.

Mitsuru frowned in thought. "It was with good intentions, so I forgive you. And I appreciate your concern for my safety. Please do not remove the monitoring devices you have installed."

"Mitsuru?"

"I trust you, Aigis. Now, about this week's security incidents," Mitsuru continued briskly. "Akihiko was in another fight this morning; do you have the details?"

**Late Night**  
>Mitsuru stared up at her ceiling, unable to sleep. Earlier that evening, she had reviewed in detail the information Mameda had given her. Since then, she had mechanically followed her routines, her mind whirling. She vaguely remembered eating dinner, but she could not remember tasting it, and could not even remember what she had eaten. Her damp hair indicated that she had bathed, but she did not recall that, either. The facts Mameda's research team had uncovered where overwhelming.<p>

He had spoken truthfully when he said that there were no reliable alternatives available at the moment. Time was the crux of the matter. The scientists were maddeningly uncertain about how long the barrier would last, and with good reason. The strength of the barrier was dependent on Minato's willpower, and as such could fail at any time. Worse, the strength of Erebus came from humanity, and a sudden upswing in negativity could boost its strength rapidly. They had made several projections, but the most important one was the pessimistic projection, which assumed Minato's will could fail at any moment, and that a massive calamity would occur before the end of the decade. That projection made any concerns about the future of the Kirijo Group irrelevant.

Furthermore, if she opted to try to resurrect the shadows, it would take time before they would become populous enough to make a difference; years, perhaps, and that in addition to the time it would take to determine a method to bring them back. If the rapid failure scenario, or one like it, came true, the would need to start on that immediately, devoting all available resources to the task, and even then it might not be soon enough. Searching for alternative solutions would take time and resources they might not have, and none of those proposed could be guaranteed reliable over time. And yet, they would buy some time to search for more permanent methods, or at least, they were expected to, barring unforeseen circumstances.

Lying in bed in her darkened bedchamber, listening to the ticking of her clock, Mitsuru felt acutely aware of the passage of time. Every second that passed was a second not spent working on a way to save humanity. Or, if she chose the shadows, a way to save most of humanity and condemn the rest to a fate worse than death. For a moment, she allowed herself to indulge in self-pity. Who was she to decide the fate of humanity? She certainly understood Mameda's desire to pass the responsibility for the decision to her. She could not avoid it, unfortunately. Who would she ask to decide? If she made the situation public, she would cause a panic, which would most likely lead to Erebus gaining strength and overwhelming Minato. If she contacted the government privately, it was unlikely a decision would be made in time to accomplish anything. No, she had to to make this decision herself. She laughed quietly, hysterically to herself.

Mitsuru struggled to regain control of herself for a few moments, then took a deep breath and listened to the steady ticking of the clock, trying to let it lull her to sleep. Instead, as she closed her eyes, she remembered another time listening to her clock. Back at the dorm, they had all passed the time before midnight differently after Minato had informed them they were exploring Tartarus that night, usually by asking Fuuka to let them know. Fuuka herself would usually read or study after passing the message on. Akihiko would usually leave the dorm immediately and wander the streets until midnight, too restless to sit and wait. Junpei would also be restless and excited, but he would try to study anyway, or so he claimed, despite sometimes staring at the same page of a book for half an hour or more. Yukari usually studied, but sometimes Mitsuru could hear the TV from her room. Aigis would usually sit in the lounge, sometimes reading, sometimes watching the news, sometimes just staring into space. Ken sometimes tried to stay up and wait for midnight, especially after he first joined, but later, after Shinjiro's death and he had been forced to mature somewhat, he had admitted that his body needed more sleep than that, and would nap until Minato woke him on his way out. Shinjiro, poor Shinjiro, for the short time he had rejoined them, would often read his cooking magazines and pretend to ignore the rest of them.

Mitsuru herself usually tried to study in her room. After her father's death, a memory which still pained her, she frequently sacrificed that studying time to paperwork of the Kirijo Group, an unfortunate foreshadowing of her current situation, she thought wryly. No matter what she was trying to do, though, she would often find herself listening to the ticking of her clock, the same clock that she was listening to now, unable to focus through her anticipation of exploring Tartarus. She'd never shared Akihiko's love for battle, or Junpei's excitement over playing the hero. Instead, she'd fretted over the safety of her friends in SEES. Passing leadership to Minato had been a huge relief to her, as he had been at least as protective of the others as she, and, Mitsuru felt, more capable of leading them well and protecting them. Although, she thought with some bitterness, that had not ended well for him, and she had inherited that responsibility again. For their sake, and for his, there was only one choice she could make.

* * *

><p>This is a piece I wrote about two years ago that has languished across multiple hard drives and Google docs accounts, because I did not like the way it ended. I recently had an idea for an alternative way to end it, and I had some free time this week around editing chapter 5 of Continuation of the Dream. While this story has never come out quite as I hoped, I find the current results satisfactory. Almost all of the text of this story is over two years old, though, and it shows in my writing, so I hope you will forgive that. This story had no prereaders. While I have proofread it, repeated editing may have introduced errors, and any that were not caught are entirely my fault.<p>

In some ways, the this can function as a sequel to the other Persona 3 story I've published, even though it was written first. March 5th, 2011 is a distillation of many of the ideas that went into this story. Just to be clear, this is a one-shot, and there will be no sequel.


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